


The Dragon, The Angel and The Prophet

by Amlugonnen



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amlugonnen/pseuds/Amlugonnen
Summary: Vyn and Nirn shouldn't be able to meet. That is, until one day Kierra wakes up on a beach, with strange fever and a voice in her head.





	The Dragon, The Angel and The Prophet

**Author's Note:**

> Just a series of one shots centered around my two characters, Prophetess Kierra and Dragonborn Lunila + an amazing follower & LI from Enderal - Calia. I hope you'll enjoy it.

„Describe yourself.“  
„I beg your pardon?“  
Kierra smiled to herself. Since the whole ordeal began, the Prophetess learnt how to pick on the slightest, tiniest changes of her friend’s tone. The Dragonborn was trying to sound confused, but the slight pause in the middle of the sentence showed that the woman knew exactly what was being asked.   
„You know how I look like,“ Kierra mumbled as ashe started to sketch Lunila’s emblem. The symbol of a dying dragon flashed in her mind whenever the Nord entered it. „But I have no idea when it comes to you!“   
There was no response for a while. However, the Qyrian knew her… interesting companion was still there. The empty, hollow feeling didn’t come, like always when they separated.   
„Alright then, you have a good point. How do you wanna do this?“  
If Kierra was standing, she would be jumping with excitement. She didn’t know why. Normally, she didn’t feel joy when drawing someone.   
Ever since Kierra was a kid, only those who hurt her made it into her sketch book. Calia suggested that it’s some kind of coping mechanism. The Prophetess was skeptical at first, but after a few drinks during one lonely night, she came to the somber realization that Calia was right. Everyone who tormented her were put in some sort of bizzare pose or situation, be it a funny one or deadly. It made Kierra feel… in control. They were just a creation on the paper and nothing more.   
But Lunila never hurt her. Since they got themselves in this perculiar mess, the Dragonborn has been kind, supportive and protective of both Kierra and Calia too. She offered advice, distraction during long travels and lightened the mood when needed.  
„Okay, so,“ the Prophetess began, turning over to a new page, „I am going to try and draw your head, neck and shoulders. For that, I need you to tell me every detail on your face, even the tiniest.“  
„Sure thing lady Prophetess.“  
„Stop.“  
„Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyways, I guess I have a round face, broad shoulders…“

Few hours passed and Kierra was now working on one of the most interesting parts any warrior can be proud of. Lunila’s scars. Although, it didn’t feel like that long. The Prophetess smiled the whole time, sometimes bursting into a fits of laughter, caused by her companion. She never stopped talking, joking, rambling about everything.   
„Hah, I got that one while transforming!“   
Kierra’s eyebrows shot up. She was working on one of the oldest scars. Four gashesh covering the whole throat, made by wolf claws. At least, something that looked like them. „A pack of wolves attacked you or what?“   
„No…“ there was a pause. The Prophetess felt Lunila’s embarassment as if it was her own.   
„I, uh, kinda forgot I was a werewolf and scratched myself during transformation.“  
„How can someone forget they’re a werewolf?“   
„Didn’t I tell you about the amnesia the Gods caused me?“   
Kierra streched her arms and grunted, listening to the crack her joints created.   
„No, no you didn’t“ she said as she examined the portrait they made together. A young Nord in her mid 20s was grinning back at her. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but it was not that bad either. Lunila’s hair was long to her broad shoulders, shining grey eyes covered by a few curly strands. Her eyes were silver in real life and her hair blonde, skin tanned, but there is only so much an artist can do with a pencil.   
„Well, that’s a long story for another time. In short, I forgot I was a werebeast and when Alpha sensed werewolf’s blood, he just ´woke´up. During the change, I couldn’t breath, tried to touch my neck and you can imagine the rest.“ 

Every scar on Lunila’s face had a story behind it. The lightning shaped one was done to her by her sister, during a brutal fight. Just a misunderstanding she said, but Kierra was doubtful. The Prophetess knew there were things hidden from her, but decided not to push.   
Another one on her forehead was from an arrow that she just barely dodged. Every mark on her skin was a remainder to Kierra that there was a possibility of Lunila just… dying. She was a warrior, sword and shield ready to protect the innocents. Fights filled her every waking moment.   
„K, are you alright? Things just got dark here.“  
The Qyrian shook her head and tried to forget those thoughts. She had to be careful. After all, Lunila could feel what she felt.   
„I’m sorry, my friend. I-“  
„Sa’lra! There you are.“ Calia smiled and walked up to her. She looked tired, but relieved at the same time. The heavy armor she wore had dents and scratches. Kierra made a mental note to repair it when the opportunity comes.   
„Don’t worry, I’ll remind you,“ Lunila teased her, enjoying how her surroundings in the Qyrian’s mind became bright red instead of moody blue.   
„Oh, hey. Sorry I worried you, I… just needed some time alone.“   
Kierra’s heart picked up a pace when the woman sat down beside her. Things have changed between them since the first time they met. Kierra knew it, she hoped Calia knew it and Lunila knew it too.   
„Heh, I’ll leave you two alone now. But before I go…“

A scene flashed inside of Kierra’s mind. There were two women present. One of them was sitting at a table and the other one was laying on the bed. The one by the table looked younger than the secon, with raven black hair cut to her shoulders. She turned around, showing off her mask, which covered left half of her face, and burning orange eyes.   
„Welcome back,“ she chuckled. The older of the two sat up and the Prophetess could hear the beating of her own heart in her ears.   
The Nord had messy blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a plain white tunic without sleeves, pants and no shoes. Her skin was tanned, arms visibly muscled, shoulder broad. Her silver eyes were shining bright, her smile too, as she looked in Kierra’s direction. There were many scars on her face, a lightning shaped one on her right cheek and claw marks on her throath being the most noticeable ones.   
„Smile Tassy,“ Lunila said, „lady Prophetess is watching!“   
After that, the scene went black again. 

„Who is that?“ Calia asked and Kierra had to use all of her strength to stay calm and not to give away the mixture of emotions clashing in her. Excitement, confusion, happiness… love? No. Yes?   
„Ehm, that is my,“ she paused for a second, trying to find the right words, „friend back from home. I miss her a lot, so I tried to draw her.“  
„Well, she does look like an interesting person.“   
The Prophetess chuckled and nodded. Lunila was an interesting person, truly. In fact, so interesting that she managed to capture her heart, without her noticing. But when Calia accidentally brushed their hands against each other, Kierra realized something to her own horror. 

She was in love with both of them.


End file.
